Mrs. Montrose

These clothes did fit me much better them, I've gained eighteen pounds, stress, poor diet, and lack of exercise."

She was facing away from him while she talked, acutely aware of her position but unwilling to move until he said so. She jumped slightly when she felt his hands on her neck, then shoulders.

They slid slowly down, reaching around to cup her breasts lightly for just a second, before sliding down across her ass and down to her knees.

"Hmmm. Panty hose, functional bra, full cut panties. I'll bet they're white. How long has it been since you wore something sexy instead of functional?"

"A while. And they're pink."

"Pink?"

"yes, my panties, they're pink."

She could almost feel his smile.

"I stand corrected, although I may just verify that later. Put your hands down, Mrs. Montrose, sit down and tell me your story."

Gratefully, she put her hands down and pulled out a chair.

"Not a very original one, I'm afraid. We, my husband and I, both worked at the same place. He was production manager. We fell in love, married.

We were classic DINKs, dual income, no kids. We made good money, so we bought a bigger house than we needed. Bought a bunch of toys. He had a truck, a motorcycle, a boat, and a four wheeler.

I had a high end SUV and a cute little sports car. We traveled, threw parties. Life was good."

"Then the economy collapsed. We had to let go of a couple people in the office and had to take over their jobs. Production dropped drastically.

My husband got demoted to line manager at reduced pay. It was either that or be laid off."

"First we sold off the toys. The boat, the four wheeler, the motorcycle, my SUV. It helped, but not much."

"Then he got laid off while I was was working sixty five hours a week on reduced salary. We lost the house. Then the plant closed. We sold his truck and took the little severance pay and 401 we cashed out, and moved here, looking for better things. All I can find is temp work, and he hasn't worked anywhere in a year. We barely make the rent and power. His unemployment runs out in three months. If he doesn't have a job by then I don't know what's gonna happen."

"Does your husband have any prospects?"

She shrugged in frustration.

"I can't say with any certainty if he is even looking."

He nodded.

"Stress effects people differently. Bring me his resume, I know and meet a lot of different people. Maybe someone will have something for him."

He changed subjects abruptly.

"How's your love life? Must be banging around like monkeys with all that spare time."

She grimaced.

"That may have been so the first six months, but I can honestly say it's probably been over eight months. Not due to me, he just isn't interested."

"That's bullshit, Mrs. Montrose. All men are interested in sex, even the ones too old or incapable. It's how we're wired. He just needs to get motivated."

"Maybe" she said sadly, "it's been so long if someone brushes against me in the bus my nipples get hard."

It hit her what she had said and she blushed furiously.

She failed to see the gleam in his eyes. He filled her glass once again, and sat companionably while she drank. He reached out when the glass was almost empty and took it gently.

"Stand up, Mrs. Montrose. I'm about to give you a gift."

"What kind of gift?" she asked almost shyly.

"The gift of a man appreciating the assets of an attractive woman. Take off your jacket and blouse, please. Place them on the chair."

They stared into each others' eyes for a moment before she recognized the dominant force, and removed her jacket and blouse, standing before him in just a bra and skirt. She had a fleeting regret it wasn't the pink wonder bra in the back of her dresser.

"Very good, Mrs. Montrose. Hold your arms out, please."

Her arms seemed to rise of their own accord.

He stepped behind her, unclipping the bra and removing it, to join the clothes already on the table. Her breasts sagged slightly but were still firm, her nipples standing out proud and hard. He reached around and cupped them, rubbing his thumbs over the nipples slowly and firmly. She moaned and almost sagged down.

He sat in a chair and had her stand in front of him while he worshipped her breasts with his mouth and tongue. sucking hard and nipping softly. She was emitting squeaks and moans, at one time cradling his head in both her arms as he continued to tease and torment her. He finally released her.

"Skirt, hose, panties, on the table, now."

She seemed to be in a hypnotic state, moving slowly. The skirt, hose and panties were soon on the table. He had her place her hands on her head again and twirl for him once more. She was suddenly ashamed of her full bush, she hadn't trimmed it in almost a year. He didn't comment, except to say she was as beautiful as he thought she would be. Her whole body glowed with pride.

He held up her pantyhose.

"I know you don't know it, but I have a severe aversion to pantyhose. Can't stand the garment. Shall I show you how I used the last two pair I came in contact with?"

He ripped them in two. She was still shaking and shuddering from her near orgasm because of the breast play. She would have done anything for him at that particular moment.

He quickly bound her hands behind her. Then he gagged her with the other half. Without any seeming effort he lifted her by her waist and sat her on the table.

At five nine and one sixty, she was by no means a small woman. She was suitably impressed.

He sat beside her on the table, stroking her gently, talking into her ear.

"You're a very attractive woman, Mrs. Montrose. There probably isn't a man in this building who wouldn't bed you if he had the chance."

He bent down and nipped a breast, but not hard enough to make a mark. He slid a hand down, rubbing her tummy just above her hair line in slow, concentric circles. It felt like he left a trail of goosebumps every time.

He spread her legs and dropped between them, nipping and licking up and down her inner thighs, stopping just above the knee and just below her her throbbing sex. Moisture was already evident.

He kissed closer and closer, finally making contact with her slit, licking rapidly up to her swollen clit, which he sucked into his mouth firmly, rolling his tongue around it constantly.

To her surprise she climaxed instantly, strongly.

By the time she got her senses back she realized he hadn't slowed his assault, adding two fingers to go with his tongue. A minute later she came so hard she almost lost consciousness.

When she regained her senses he had released her, moving her slowly to the bathroom, so she could freshen up. He closed the door behind her gently, leaving her standing confused, staring into her flushed face and heaving chest in the mirror.

"Why didn't he fuck me?" she though abstractedly as she cleaned the juices off her legs.

He was sitting at his desk, face buried in his hands when she returned. She knelt beside him, uncertain, before rubbing his thigh and edging towards his cock. He reached down gently and stopped her.

"No, Mrs. Montrose, this was about you. Thank you for letting me appreciate you. Perhaps you'd like to go now, it seems I've gotten a bit maudlin."

The last thing she wanted to do was leave this man when he was in so much pain. She clasped his hand in both hers and lay her head on his thigh.

He idly ruffled her hair with his other hand. She felt him shaking, and risked a glance up, to have a tear drop on her face. She looked back down, sure he wouldn't want her to see his tears flow.

They spent perhaps thirty minutes in silence, before he shook himself and helped her up.

"Time for you to go home, Mrs. Montrose. We have to work tomorrow. And Mrs. Montrose, thank you. Please don't mention this to anyone."

"I would die first" she said with conviction.

He looked in her eyes.

"I believe you. Once again, thank you. Now, let's get you home."

While she dressed he called for a car.

"Carlos, what vehicles do we have available?"

"We've got two sedans, two vans, and the town car. Which do you want ready?"

"The town car, and get a driver, if you can."

"I'll do it boss, it's almost time for me to leave anyway."

"Thank you, Carlos. I owe you one. She'll be out front in about twenty minutes. Make sure she get safely inside before you leave her."

"Got it boss. I'll be waiting."

He looked over at her while she adjusted her clothes.

"There will be a black town car outside the building. Your driver is Carlos. He'll see you safely home. Goodnight, Mrs. Montrose."

...............................................

The car was just where he said it would be. A slender man opened the door for her.

"Good evening, Mrs. Montrose."

She seemed surprised.

"How did you know who I was?"

He grinned. "Mike called and described you. Now, are you ready?"

She nodded and slid into the back seat.

"Have you been working for Dream Realty long?"

He answered without turning round.

"Four years. It's the best job I've ever had. I usually don't drive. I'm in charge of the company vehicles. I was a motor pool sergeant in the service so this comes naturally."

She leaned back, luxuriating in the feel of the leather.

"Do you drive Mike often?"

"Not often, he usually drives himself. I tend to drive him personally when he needs a car."

She was fishing.

"What kind of man is he?"

There was an uncomfortable silence before he spoke.

"He's the kind of man that appreciates someone who minds their own business. You'll find very few willing to discuss him."

She sighed.

"I'd like to say I didn't mean to pry, but that would be a lie. I'm working through a temp service and I would really like to make this job permanent. I'm impressed with what I see. I'd like to stay. Got any advice?"

He smiled in the rear view mirror.

"Do the best job you can. His old assistant was with him from the beginning. She was twenty years older, and became his conscience and mother figure. She could make him do things he normally wouldn't do, and he would thank her later. He had a rough childhood, she kept him human. She had to move because of the health of her husband. He took it hard."

"You're too young to mother him, but if you learn to anticipate his needs and mood you'll be ahead of the game. The first two temps were too young and he didn't take them seriously. The last one was just over thirty, and she was husband hunting. She made a play for him, but nothing came between him and his girlfriend. She set her sights on some of the others, but he had enough and got rid of her. I hope you work out, Mrs. Montrose."

"Thank you for your advice, Carlos. And please, call me Edie. One more thing, what time does he start working? He's always there when I arrive, it makes me feel like I'm playing catch up."

Carlos grimaced.

"He was almost a workaholic before Shanna. Even now, he's there by seven thirty most days."

"Damn, that's too early for my bus route!"

Carlos made a decision he hoped he wouldn't regret.

"I go right by here on my way to work every morning. If you can be ready, I can pick you up by seven."

He liked her smile.

"Carlos, I think we are going to be good friends! Thank you so much. I'll be waiting."

..............................................

She was, coming out the door when she saw him pull up. She sat up front.

"Too formal as friends for me to sit in the back." she said in explanation. He stopped at a bagel shop. She looked askance.

"He likes pumpernickel and whole wheat, with lots of cream cheese."

She was already opening the door.

"Coffee too? And what's your favorite?"

"Blueberry, and no, he has a pot in his office. He's kind of a gourmet blend junkie."

She felt immense satisfaction at the the look on his face when he arrived. She had the day's schedule laid out on his desk, the coffee brewed, and the cheese spread on his warm bagel.

His smile was worth the effort.

"Well come on, I'll pour. Cream, sugar?"

She tried to get him to let her pour but he refused.

"You obviously made an effort here. I suspect Carlos had a hand in this. The least I can do is serve you. Pumpernickel or whole wheat?"

They ate in silence, enjoying the moment.

"Mrs. Montrose, you don't have to come in this early."

"A good assistant starts when her boss starts, if not before. End of discussion, okay boss?"

He smiled.

"Discussion closed."

They worked steadily. Shanna called twice, Suzie once. He refused their calls.

They were in his office with the door closed, his signal they were not to be disturbed. He had locked the door in case they tried to barge in. Just before lunch he looked over.

"Mrs. Montrose, do you have on pantyhose?"

She nodded, wondering where this was going.

"Show me."

"Sir?"

"I spoke clearly, Mrs. Montrose. Lift your skirt, show me."

He said it calmly, in a matter of fact voice, but she knew he meant it. For the life of her, she couldn't understand why she was obeying.

She lifted her dress high, exposing herself. He frowned.

"Mrs. Montrose, I'm sure you know by now I have odd proclivities. I hate pantyhose with a passion. Take them off, right now. Give them to me. Panties too."

She obeyed slowly, stepping out of her heels and sliding them down her legs. When she handed them to him he threw them into the waste basket.

"Thank you. If I catch them on you again you won't like it."

Before she could process his words he reached into his pocket and retrieved a money clip. He rolled four hundreds off and handed them to her.

"Since I require something out of the norm, I intend to pay for it. Your new assignment is to take a long lunch, and go shopping. Buy at least five pair of thigh highs, and two pair of stockings and a garter belt. Get the best. If you don't have enough you are to call me and hand the phone to the salesperson. I'll take care of it.

Buy a few pair of prettier panties while you're at it. Wear them back, and rest assured I will inspect. Any questions?"

"Uh, yes, I mean no, I guess I mean...yes sir, I'll complete my new assignment at lunch."

"Good, I'll get someone to drive you. Off you go, now."

In forty five minutes she was standing in Macy's. Carlos drove her personally. As she got out he gave her a message.

"Mike said to forget about the money. Ask for Julie in lingerie, she'll help you."

He said it in a calm voice, like this was an everyday occurrence when you worked for Mike. Maybe it was.

Ninety minutes later she was back in the office. Mike never said a word as they went back to work.

At five they stopped.

"A good day, Mrs. Montrose. Time to stop. I'll see you in the morning. Carlos said if you can leave in the next thirty minutes he'll give you a ride home."

She shut down the computers and tidied her desk. Just before she left she tried to give him back the money he had given her.

"Keep it. Consider it pay for the late hours last night and the early arrival this morning. Good night."

She was almost out the door when he called her back.

"I almost forgot. Show me what I paid for."

She felt her whole body redden as she slowly lifted her skirt. The thigh highs were patterned and seamed, the panties beige lace boyshorts.

She moaned when he caressed her ass.

"Very nice, Mrs. Montrose. Money well spent."

He turned and strode into his little apartment, leaving her still holding her dress up. She felt like she was on fire. It was a long ride home.

It became habit for Carlos to pick her up every morning. They became friends.

She tried to entice her husband with her new lingerie, but he seemed more interested in the ball game and beer to make the effort. He often slept on his recliner. She was becoming more frustrated than ever. Between Mike's caresses and her husbands' disinterest she was about to explode.

Mike finally had to threaten to fire Shanna and Suzie before they would leave him alone. Suzie had moved in with Shanna, to keep an eye on her more than anything else. Shanna railed at Chantal for destroying their relationship.

Mike had not forgotten Chantal, not at all.

.................................................

Almost a month after his breakup he gave Chantal a call.

"Hi. I waited awhile before I called you, out of respect I guess. But now it's time to move on. Are you free for dinner Friday.

"I don't know" she said playfully, "do you like rancho heuvos?"

"Yes, but isn't that a breakfast dish?"

She giggled.

"Yes it is, My muy hombre."

He laughed.

"I love them."

He took her to the most exclusive restaurant in Mexico City, flying her down. They stayed at the most luxurious condo she had ever seen. They drank two thousand dollar a bottle champagne.

And they made love, for hours. He seemed hell bent on making it the most memorable sex she ever had, and succeeded. After four hours of almost continuous sexual pleasure they rested. He poured her another glass but not one for him. She was smiling at him when her hand relaxed and she dropped the glass to the hardwood floor. She idly wondered why when she lost consciousness.

..................................................

Shanna almost passed out when she answered the door. Martin Coombs, a man Mike considered a brother, stood at the door. Two inches taller than Mike, easily weighing four hundred pounds, black as night. She was terrified of him.

When Mike introduced him, he was the perfect gentleman until he ran out to get more wine.

A minute after Mike went through the door he had her by the throat, backed up against the kitchen counter.

"Listen bitch, listen good. I love that man more than I do anyone alive. There is nothing, NOTHING, we wouldn't do for each other. T-girls are notoriously fickle, I know from experience.

Hurt him, and nothing in this world can save you. I got a business I can use you in, and when you wear out I'll put you on a street corner until there's nothing left, then I'll kill you, slow. Understand me, nothing can save you, so you better be the best bitch a woman can be for him.

The alternative ain't too rosy for you."

He sat her gently back in her chair, smoothing her clothes and kissing her cheek.

"Glad we had this talk, cleared the air. Now, say you're from England?"

The rest of the night took on a surrealistic quality. She made it a point to be gone whenever he visited, telling Mike to spend all his time with him, because they got together so rarely. Mike loved her for it.

Now he stood there, and Mike wasn't there to protect her. He walked by her and sat on the sofa.

"Bitch, aren't you gonna offer me a beer?"

She got him a Victoria and sat just as far away as she could from him. Suzie came in, noticing her tenseness.

He smiled and introduced himself as Mike's best friend. He seemed so nice, she immediately started pleading with him to help her get them back together. He held his hand up.

"I ain't here for that. Up to me, I'd have the bitch on her back makin' me some coins. Why he still wants to protect her is way beyond my comprehension. I thought the old Mike was back until he gave me this. You're to watch it, then I'm destroying it. It's the only copy. Watch, and then thank whatever god you believe in he still has a little love for you left."

He put the DVD in and sat back.

The first fifteen minutes were a compilation of sex scenes, Mike and Chantal in every conceivable position. Mike licking her pussy, her deep throating him. Her bouncing on his cock, alternately facing each direction, Him penetrating her both doggy and missionary, before slamming it into her ass repeatedly.

There was about three minutes of then cuddling, praising each other. Shanna was weeping pitifully.

Then the scene dissolved, changing locations.